


Downtime

by Kangoo



Series: LGBT Destiny Month 2019 [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, LGBT Destiny Month, this is soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 05:31:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19056202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangoo/pseuds/Kangoo
Summary: the vanguards don't get much downtime, but ikora makes good use of what she has





	Downtime

**Author's Note:**

> ikora is a whole lesbian

The Vanguards don’t get a lot of downtime, if any. They’re always on the job. Who knows when the next humanity-ending menace will come? Better to always be on-call than miss an opportunity that could save lives.

Usually, it falls on their friends and partners to get them to take a break. Dragging them kicking and screaming away from their work if needed.

Cayde doesn’t require much coercing. He likes his job well enough, sure, but not to the point that his whole life revolves around it. He’s actually the one who has to drag Razel away from his work, or rather coerce him back home with promises of free ramen and whatever else the overly enthusiastic Guardian is craving at the moment. Zavala, on the other hand… definitely a workaholic.

Ikora sits… somewhere between the two. Odd, considering Warlocks tend to become… obsessive, when it comes to work they’re passionate about. They get cranky when they’re interrupted, and antsy when they can’t keep themselves busy.

But she always go home at a decent time, and rarely brings her work with her.

Unless the world is ending or the City is on fire, Nasreen wants her home for dinner.

 

“I’m home!”

Nasreen pokes her head out of the kitchen. There’s flour all over her face, stuck in her long black hair even though they’re braided out of her face. She grins when she sees Ikora.

“Hi!” She says, waving with her wooden spoon before disappearing back inside.

Ikora toes out of her shoes and follows after her. “New recipe?”

Nasreen laughs. “Yeah, one of Hawthorne’s. Hence the mess. How was your day?”

“Pretty good. Quiet. Razel’s back and nothing’s on fire yet, which I consider to be a miracle in and on itself.” She brushes a smear of sauce off Nasreen’s cheek with her thumb and stick it in her mouth as she walks by, humming in appreciation. “Tastes good.”

Ikora takes advantage of her brief distraction as she looks for another ingredient and dips her finger in the pot for another taste.

“Hey!” Nasreen swats at her with her spoon, laughing.

Ikora darts forward and pressed a quick kiss on her lips.

Nasreen mock-frowns at her, blushing furiously. She never stops doing that at unexpected kisses, even after years of marriage. “Go set the table, you nuisance.”

She does, smiling all the while. Nasreen rolls her eyes at her smug expression as she sets the plate down.

“Why the flour, though?” Ikora asks as she fills their plates generously.

“I made noon khamei for dessert.”

“Taking full advantage of your holiday, I see.”

“Well, _someone_ insisted I took a break, and then filled the pantry, kinda guessed I had too.”

Ikora stuffs her fork in her mouth, not really attempting to look dignified when the food is so good. Nasreen is wolfing down her own plate, already going for second. When she’s swallowed her mouthful — she still has some manner — she says, still looking down in disinterest. “Well, I _did_ marry you for your cooking.”

She glances up to see Nasreen dramatically clutch her chest.

“Oh, such cruel words, my dear!”

She snorts. “Anyway. I wouldn’t have to go to such lengths if _someone_ came home more often.”

“ _Razel_ spends months away and I don’t hear you complaining.”

“I’m not married to Razel, though,” she notes, smiling at the thought. Now _that_ would be a disaster. “And have you _seen_ Cayde when he’s been gone for too long?”

“Fair point.” Nasreen leans over the table, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “So, would you say you’ve _missed me_ , Ms. Ray?”

She throws her a confused look. “Of course I’ve missed you.”

Nasreen collapses back in her chair, blushing again. “Babe,” she whines, “You can’t just _say_ that!”

Ikora takes another bite. “We’re married. I can say whatever I want.”

Only silence answers her. She looks up, startled, and meets Nasreen’s fond eyes.

“I know,” she says warmly. Then, eyes crinkling with her smile, “Happy anniversary, Ikora.”

She blinks. Checks her mental calendar, surprised she didn’t remember, and smiles. “Happy anniversary, Nasreen.”

Nasreen puts her face in her hands, as if the sight of Ikora smiling is too much for her to bear. “Light, I love you so much.”

Ikora pulls her hand from her face and bends over the table to press a kiss to her knuckles, lips brushing against her wedding ring. “What do you say we keep the noon khamei for later?”

And, at Nasreen mute nod, she drags her out of her chair and toward the bedroom.

She whispers _I love you_ in the crook of her neck, and then there isn’t much more talking for quite a while.

**Author's Note:**

> funfacts: - nasreen means 'wild flower' in persian  
> \- she's a character i came up with for another fic (coming soon)  
> \- noon khamei are persian cream puffs, according to google, and look absolutely delicious
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://youngster-monster.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
